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... ed with furious energy.
Thousands of players crammed into the polished stone square, shouting, venting, pacing in circles. The usual lightness of the capital—the bright banners, the clean air, the sunlight dancing off marble—felt wrong. Discordant. Like laughter in a funeral hall.
Fairyblade stood among the crowd, her shield still strapped to her arm, her sword still bleeding illusionary gore. She turned slowly, her eyes wide, taking in the sea of anger and disbelief.
Zon ...
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